


maybe it's the warmer climate

by tocourtdisaster



Series: 15 Pairings [2]
Category: Bones
Genre: Angst, F/M, Missing Scene, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-11
Updated: 2009-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-04 08:30:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tocourtdisaster/pseuds/tocourtdisaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Would it bother her if Booth thought about her best friend in a context that didn't involve work?</i> A missing scene from "The Skull in the Desert."</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe it's the warmer climate

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Warmer Climate" by Snow Patrol.
> 
> For the prompt: resentment

By unspoken agreement, they let Angela have the shower first when they finally make it back to the cabin after a long day spent trekking through the desert. Despite how filthy Brennan feels, and how filthy she assumes Booth must feel, they both know that Angela's had a rougher day than the both of them put together.

They sit on the couch, close but not touching, listening to the water run in the bathroom. Brennan wants to ask why Booth came all the way to New Mexico. It can't just be because she asked him nicely. She hadn't even asked, really; she'd ordered. But he came anyway. For as long as Brennan's known Booth, which, admittedly, isn't that long, he's never been the kind of man to just listen to her this easily.

Booth leans forward and snags a book from the coffee table, presumably the one Angela had been reading before this whole mess started. Brennan's agent had sent it to her, urging her to "investigate the competition." She'd lent it to Angela a few weeks ago, figuring she'd better understand what Brennan's agent had meant.

"Jan Burke," Booth says, flipping the front cover open to read the dust cover. "Huh. I never would've taken Angela for a fan of crime novels."

"Why?" Brennan asks, shifting a little on the couch, angling her body towards Booth's.

"It just seems like Angela gets enough of the blood and gore and mystery at work," he says, reaching forward and setting the book down again.

"So what did you imagine she would read?" Brennan asks, wondering exactly how much thought Booth's put into Angela's out-of-work habits. And then she wonders why she cares if Booth thinks about Angela like that. Would it bother her if Booth thought about her best friend in a context that didn't involve work?

"I always thought trashy romance novels would be more Angela's cup of tea than crime fiction," Booth says, breaking Brennan's train of thought, a self-deprecating little grin on his face. "She just seems like she'd enjoy a little less plot and a little more smut."

Brennan nods, accepting Booth's answer. Part of her wants to tell Booth that he's right; normally Angela would be reading a trashy romance novel. She's only reading Burke's novel because Brennan asked her to. The larger part of her, though, doesn't want to see Booth's reaction when he realizes his supposition was spot-on. She doesn't want to see him realize that he knows Angela as well as he does.

They sit in silence for a moment, listening to the shower and the insect noise drifting in through the open windows. Booth leans his head against the back of the couch, his eyes closed. Brennan watches him, still wondering if she should ask him why he came.

"Spill, Bones," Booth says suddenly into the relative silence, startling Brennan.

"I don't know what that means," Brennan tells him, even though she does. She's not as dense when it comes to popular culture as she appears; she uses the crutch of not knowing to give herself time to formulate a proper response.

"It means that you've been dying to say something to me ever since we sat down here," he says, cracking one eye open and squinting sideways at her. "What do you want to say to me, Bones?"

"I—" she starts, contemplating a lie, but she's never been very good at lying, so she settles on the truth. "Why did you come to New Mexico, Booth?"

Booth surprises her with his answer. "Do you want me to tell you what you want to hear, or do you want me to tell you the truth?"

"The truth."

Booth takes a deep breath. He is looking at the ceiling when he speaks again. "I wasn't going to come," he says, "until you said Angela's name." He turns his head, his eyes meeting hers. "I came because Angela needed my help."

Brennan doesn't know what to say. She'd suspected, but it's something completely different to have Booth flat-out say it. She eventually settles for nodding her head a little before she pushes herself off of the couch and heads for the door. She needs some space, some time away from Booth right now.

She pauses at the door, her hand on the knob. She turns her head slightly, enough that Booth will hear her, but not enough that there's a change she will meet his eye. "I should have asked for what I wanted to hear, shouldn't I?"

"Yeah, Bones, you probably should've."

The hinges squeak loudly as the door swings shut, leaving Brennan alone with the night.

**

**end**


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